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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27655439">Forgive Us Now For What We've Done</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/HighFunctioningSarah/pseuds/HighFunctioningSarah'>HighFunctioningSarah</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Forgive Us Now For What We've Done (Assorted Works) [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Tragedy, BAMF Ginny Weasley, BAMF Luna Lovegood, BAMF Neville Longbottom, Battle of Hogwarts, Battle of the Astronomy Tower (Harry Potter), Battle of the Department of Mysteries, Book 1: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Book 2: Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, Book 3: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Bronze Trio, Canon Divergence - Post-Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Canon Divergence - Post-Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Canon-Typical Violence, Cedric Diggory Dies, Cedric Diggory is a Great Big Brother, Death Eater Draco Malfoy, Death Eaters, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Divination, Draco Malfoy Doesn't Join Voldemort At The Battle of Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy Has Nightmares, Draco Malfoy Has PTSD, Draco Malfoy Needs a Hug, Draco Malfoy is Clueless About Muggle Things, Dumbledore's Army, F/M, Good Albus Dumbledore, Good Draco Malfoy, Good Parent Narcissa Black Malfoy, Good Slytherins, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hogwarts Era, Hogwarts Kitchens, Hufflepuff, Hufflepuff &amp; Slytherin Inter-House Friendships, Hufflepuff Common Room, Hufflepuff/Slytherin Inter-House Relationships, Hufflepuffs Swearing, Lies, Lucius Malfoy Dies, Lucius Malfoy's A+ Parenting, Luna Lovegood is a Good Friend, Magic, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Mentor Severus Snape, Minor Cho Chang/Cedric Diggory, Minor Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley, Minor Seamus Finnigan/Dean Thomas, Minor Violence, Muggle-born Pride, Neville Longbottom is a Good Friend, Nightmares, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Battle of Hogwarts, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Scars, Seamus Finnigan Swearing, Second War with Voldemort, Severus Snape Has a Heart, Silver Trio, Slow Burn, Slytherin Common Room, Slytherins Being Slytherins, Spies &amp; Secret Agents, The Golden Trio Era (Harry Potter), Triwizard Tournament, Young Death Eaters, Yule Ball (Harry Potter), battle of the seven potters</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 21:13:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,530</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27655439</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/HighFunctioningSarah/pseuds/HighFunctioningSarah</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Not all Hufflepuffs are honest. For Petra Fawley, that honesty had to be earned. She would gladly be kind, work herself to the bone, and could certainly be trusted with the secrets of others, but honesty was harder to come by. That kind of vulnerability was reserved for a select few, including that of Draco Malfoy, who in turn was honest with her - about most things. </p><p>War makes liars of us all, even with the best intentions.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Draco Malfoy/Original Female Character(s), Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy, Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley, Remus Lupin/Nymphadora Tonks, Seamus Finnigan/Dean Thomas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Forgive Us Now For What We've Done (Assorted Works) [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2133615</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. First Year: The First Day of the Rest of Your Life</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello and welcome to this little corner of the internet! Full disclosure: The majority of this fic, which takes places across all seven years at Hogwarts, should be book-accurate until the second half of sixth year, where some canon divergence will take place. Some scenes used in this fic are an amalgamation of book and film content or simply film content in order to save time and create cohesion for the story I wanted to tell. There is also some minor canon divergence (such as giving Fleur Delacour more points in the Triwizard Tournament, classes being mixed between all Houses and not just two, some ships and changing a few things about Cho Chang). Also, this is a mega slow-burn! The first few years are shorter in length but it is still a considerable amount of time before any romance happens.</p><p>The title was inspired by O Children by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The platform beside the Hogwarts Express was bustling with activity. Steam burst from the train in angry huffs, eager to start, while the bundles of families and their luggage milled about the platform like a colony of ants. The occasional owl flew through the air and into cages or carriages in a dizzying flurry, the frenetic energy across the station amplified by the continuous movement of the people within it. Each witch and wizard seemed to have their own path. Some stepped onto the train while others waved goodbye, students across all years eager to return to school. The majority had not yet donned their robes, instead dressed in Muggle attire. The sight was completely daunting to Petra as she clutched her hands within one another. The prospect of meeting new people simultaneously sparked excitement in her stomach, and she turned to her father with a beaming grin before she tapped his shoulder.</p><p>He turned to her distractedly, hands stuffed inside of his pockets. An old fob watch ticked away on the pocket of his suit plum coloured and velveted suit jacket; its mother-of-pearl face glinted in the sunlight. It was a gift from her mother, and while it was more than a decade old, one could not tell from the incessant cleaning her father subjected it to. Habitually, he ran his thumb over its surface and checked the time, then the platform clock and tapped his thigh nervously. The trilby on his head was soon tugged off and he ran some fingers through his mostly greying hair – premature, given his age – before he crouched and held Petra’s arms in both hands. A watery smile worked onto his lips as he seized her in a gangly hug. He held her for a few moments, eyes clamped shut.</p><p>“The train will be leaving soon father,” Petra eventually said, giving him another squeeze. “I’m going to miss you.”</p><p>Her father pulled away and concealed his sniffles, though the pair both understood he was upset. It was a slow build-up of a goodbye, as ever since Petra had shown her penchant for small, wandless spells as a child, her father had known she would be sent to Hogwarts. He had attended the school himself as a teenager alongside Petra’s mother, however she had been a few years above him. It was only when they both reunited in the Department for Magical Law in their twenties that they got together. The memory of her mother placed a metallic taste in her mouth and a pang of sadness in her chest. The young witch knew better than to speak of her and upset her father further, and instead reassured him of her excitement, as well as the need to board the train. A flicker of pity crossed her gaze.</p><p>As she turned to cross the gap between the platform and the train, her father beckoned her back towards him. A small envelope was pressed into her hands. It was sealed with a yellow wax seal, a cursive ‘M’ embossed into it with a silver shimmer. Wondering who it could be from, the promise of mystery added to her excitement as Petra moved to open it. A hand was placed on top of hers, stopping her from doing so.</p><p>“Not now. Open it once you get a chance at the castle. I, uh, I should be headed to work.”</p><p>Petra gave him a sightly sombre nod at the mention of his work. The pair exchanged their final goodbyes before the young witch stepped onto the train and waved at her father, note shoved inside of her pocket. Part of her worried how her father would fare, living alone while she was gone, while the other practically shook in eagerness at the prospect of beginning the school year. The train hissed, then jolted, and the students packed aboard the train prepared themselves for the hours-long journey to Hogsmeade Station.</p><p>As Petra walked along the corridor, she searched for a room with some empty seats for people her age. The first was overfilled with a group of older students who had taken to starting a magical card game the young witch didn’t recognise. The second was less crowded, however it was filled with a group of girls who seemed to already be deep in discussion, and Petra did not wish to disturb them. Many of the rooms were filled this way, as students ate sweets and set off sparking spells and chatted about the summer break. After a few rooms, the young witch arrived at one featuring three younger students, two boys and a girl and presumably first years, each of which seemed friendly enough. She smoothened her buttoned blouse and slid the door open politely, a courteous smile on her lips.</p><p>“Apparently there’s a hidden swimming pool…” An Irish voice trailed off, and a boy with sandy brown hair and a scruffy collar looked up at her.</p><p>“Hello, um, just wondering if you guys have a spare seat?” Petra asked. The boy immediately gestured to the seat across from him.</p><p>“Yeah, go ahead, the seat’s all yours. My name’s Seamus, Seamus Finnigan. I’m a first year.”</p><p>“Petra Fawley.” She replied quickly before she sat and turned to the other two. The girl with gold-blonde hair replied first and adjusted the strap of her overalls.</p><p>“Leiani Crow. Also a first year. We all are.”</p><p>The final boy waited a moment, his teeth sticking out form his lips slightly. Eyes wide, he abruptly stood and looked around the carriage.</p><p>“Trevor!”</p><p>“You name is Trevor?”</p><p>A laugh bubbled from Seamus’ stomach. It sounded like he was the sort to laugh a lot. The blonde girl also laughed and stood, checking beside her seat and tucking her loose hair behind her ears. After a moment, she tapped Seamus on the shoulder and gestured for him to help.</p><p>“His toad’s name is Trevor.” He supplied. He lifted the armrest rather uselessly, as nothing could fit inside of it. “That’s Neville Longbottom.”</p><p>“I’ve lost him! We’ve barely left and I’ve already lost him!”</p><p>Without hesitation, Petra stood, grabbed her elastic and pulled her hair away from her face. Between the lack of hiding spots in the room and the continuous activity within the carriage, she doubted it would be easy to find the toad. She opened the room door and walked into the hallway, giving the three others a nod.</p><p>“Are we all going to go and look for him?”</p><p>After almost an hour of searching, the group had been unable to find the toad and instead resolved to return to their room and hope that someone already found him. It worried Neville to no end, as much as Petra tried to reassure him. Once back to their room, the group had spoken at great length about their expectations of the school. Both of Neville’s parents had attended Hogwarts and been sorted into Gryffindor House, though he seemed to be rather intimidated by the idea and fidgeted as he spoke. He did not dwell on them for very long. Seamus’ mother had also been sorted into Gryffindor, while his Muggle father attended a local school in his hometown. Leiani’s parents, on the other hand, were both Muggles, and had never met any witches or wizards prior to her acceptance letter, so she was unsure of what to expect. Petra launched into one of her mother’s stories from her teenage years, albeit one she had heard from her father, to try and comfort her. By the time she had finished, the group only had a few minutes before they would arrive, and so they each dashed away to change into their robes.</p><p>***</p><p>There was a boy with ice blonde hair arguing with Harry Potter at the top of the stairs. The sight caused Petra to roll her eyes – who tried to cause an argument on their first day at school, let alone with a wizard such as Harry Potter? – and she sent a look towards Leiani, who looked a little sick. The nerves had begun to set in for many students. The curious group of first years trailed behind an older woman in green velvet robes, dark hair fastened into a bun at the back of her head. A rather stern expression was fixed upon her face, and Petra thought it best to remain on the old woman’s favourable side. She had introduced herself as Professor McGonagall, who, if she remembered from her father’s spiels correctly, was Head of Gryffindor House during his schooling years, and presumably still was.</p><p>A pair of ginormous doors opened to reveal the Great Hall, packed to the brim with various students. Four long tables ran down the Hall, one for each House, and the bored expressions of the older students set Petra at somewhat at ease. Immediately, her gaze drifted to the table of black and yellow, where she expected to be. The thought tugged at her heart warmly. Candles floated about the roof which appeared like the night sky, the twinkle of stars one with the flames. As the group walked between the innermost tables and towards the end of the Hall, a lectern came into view, and Petra noted that each of the Professors sat at a long table at the end of the room. Beneath the lectern was a stool, and a dusty brown hat atop it.</p><p>The hat made Petra a little nervous. She had heard stories about it from her father. It used Legilimency, which intimidated Petra at the best of times, but the idea that it would be able to know all her private thoughts, and that they would be used to sort her into a specific House, was strange and intrusive. She would much prefer to keep her thoughts to herself. It was not long before the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, had greeted both the new and returning students with a speech and the Sorting Ceremony began. The first student, Susan Bones, was sorted into Hufflepuff without much delay and met by resounding applause. Next was Leiani Crow, who was similarly sorted into Hufflepuff. The third, Tracey Davis, was sorted into Slytherin and received a rather cold welcome as three of the Houses remained mostly silent. Petra was the fourth student to be called.</p><p>Apprehension hidden behind a small smile, the young witch sat on the stool and waited. Professor McGonagall placed the Hat on her head, and it immediately spoke to her. <em>I sense intelligence – very perceptive, especially of others – not that you would acknowledge it, no. You would prefer to see your success based on your merits. There is loyalty too. Kindness and endless loyalty to those who earn it.</em></p><p>The young witch had to remind herself not to swing her feet as she sat, time trickled by steadily. She did not dare speak to the Hat. The words of her mother rang through her mind, a reminder to remain unbothersome and polite. An army of faces stared back at the her with interest, some more keenly than others. It seemed that those at the Slytherin table in particular had lost interest, having given up their chances to claim her as one of their own. Two boys with bright red hair at the Gryffindor table had passed coins between themselves all throughout the Sorting Ceremony as if they were betting, an occasional laugh shared. It seemed that as the process dragged on, students perked up again as if waiting to see of the Hat would ever make a decision.</p><p>The pressure to be sorted into Hufflepuff started to dawn on her. It was traditional for the Fawley’s, as every family member who had attended Hogwarts (with the exception of Petra’s Auntie Meredith, who had always been a strange woman) had been sorted into Hufflepuff. While her father never would have openly expressed his disappointment, the thought that he might feel that way formed a pit of guilt in her gut. The several minute delay in the Hat’s decision only increased it.</p><p>
  <em>A trustworthy confidante… but too keen to be taken advantage of. Yes, you do have a certain front. You’d rather be underestimated – leaves plenty of room for you to do what you wish. The question is, where is best, hmm?</em>
</p><p>Petra finally whispered to the Hat, too nervous from the waiting. She summoned all the politeness she could, her father’s likening of true politeness and kindness rang clear in her mind. <em>I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t want to hold up the line. Everyone is waiting for me.</em></p><p>Petra could have sworn she’d heard a chuckle through the hat.</p><p>“Hufflepuff!” It declared.</p><p>A grin stretched across her lips as she hopped from her seat and walked over to the Hufflepuff table, the stress lifted from her shoulders. Susan Bones was sat on one side of the seats next to Leiani and eyed the front of the Hall eagerly. Petra sent her a quick wave and felt a sense of relief being nearby other girls in her House and year, especially one who she had met on the train.</p><p>Leiani beamed at her. “You’re in Hufflepuff too! Thank goodness we’ve got each other. I think Neville might be sorted here too.”</p><p>“We can hope.” Petra replied, before flashing a distracted Susan a warm smile.</p><p>An older boy was sat at the end of the seat closest to Petra, light brown hair parted softly to the side. He seemed familiar, but Petra couldn’t place where she recognised him from. A kind smile was on his face as she sat down.</p><p>“My name’s Cedric – Diggory.” He added the last name as an afterthought. “Welcome to Hufflepuff.”</p><p>“Petra Fawley.” She replied and returned her gaze to the front of the Great Hall to watch the rest of the ceremony.</p><p>It took some time for the Ceremony to conclude, as while some students like the icy haired boy from the stairs – she had learnt his name was Draco Malfoy, and vaguely remembered hearing her father use the family name in regards to work – hardly needed a moment to be sorted, others took minutes. It was a little unnerving how the Hat had barely grazed Draco’s head before it announced that he was to join Slytherin House. How a person could be so self-assured was beyond her, and a small glimmer of admiration fluttered through her chest. Both Seamus and Neville had been sent to Gryffindor, much to Petra’s disappointment, though she looked forward to seeing them in classes and mealtimes. She supposed sharing separate Houses wasn’t the worst prospect.</p><p>Shortly after the Ceremony’s conclusion and an alarming speech from the Headmaster, the Feast appeared upon the tables. It was then that, upon the sight of a bowl of roasted corn, Petra happily piled up her plate with corn, mashed potatoes and roasted chicken. Her mouth watered as she eagerly ate away at the food on her plate. The rest of the night passed like a whirlwind (aside from the school song, which was interesting to put it kindly), of which Petra noted that Susan was quite teasing around friends, Cedric was exceedingly popular within Hufflepuff House, and that the year was undoubtedly going to be fantastic.</p><p>After, she walked past the kitchens and watching a seventh-year Prefect tap the barrel two-from-the-bottom and in the middle of the second row to the rhythm of ‘Helga Hufflepuff’. From there, she branched off with Leiani and Susan, as well as another first year Hufflepuff girl named Hannah into their dorm. As she changed into her pyjamas, curled into bed and drew the curtains closed, Petra fumbled for the sealed envelope inside her cardigan pocket. Its yellow seal appeared glossier in the candlelight as she tugged it open and unfolded the parchment inside. It was littered with neat lines of unfamiliar cursive.</p><p>
  <em>Dearest,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I hope your first day at Hogwarts has been everything you’ve imagined it to be. I’m sure the Sorting Ceremony went well, though no matter your House, it’s best you know that your father and I are incredibly proud of you. Things as arbitrary as Houses don’t matter – the friends you’ll make at Hogwarts are what will be truly important to you while you’re there. I trust you won’t lose sight of who you are, my beautiful, strong and kind little girl.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I need you to know I tried to fight it Dear, I really did. I love you. If Merlin gave me the ability to overcome this, then I would fight however I could so that I could return to you and your father in one piece. Though I suppose that if you’re reading this, these wishes are for naught and you haven’t seen me for some time.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I’m so sorry I couldn’t be with you at the platform. I’m sorry for all of the birthdays I’ve missed, and all the letters you haven’t been able to send me. Wherever I am now, know that I will always be with you, and that I love you.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Please be patient with your father. I know he can be strange at times, and distracted, but he simply shows his affection in his own ways. The point is – he’s going to be lonely without you. Promise me you won’t stop writing to him, even if he seems content being a recluse. You’re a clever girl. I’m sure you’d know better by now. You two need each other.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Love always, Mum.</em>
</p><p>A weak smile on her lips, Petra felt tears brim in her eyes as she read the letter. While it wasn’t much, the fact that she got to hold a little piece of her mother and keep it entirely to herself made her heart swell with gratitude while the painful stab of grief struck her chest. Fingers threaded together and pressed to her mouth, she gazed at the letter on her bed and let a few of the tears fall. It didn’t feel right to miss someone so dearly whom she had hardly known, yet it did not ease the craving for a mother. With a few swipes of her eyes, Petra resolved that it had been an exhaustive day, and that sleep would make her feel better. She blew out her candle, slipped the letter into a drawer and pinched her eyelids closed. She dreamt of a bed of foxgloves, her mother, dressed in gardening clothes and covered in dirt, while her father lazily sipped a cup of tea and laughed as his wife continued to destroy the garden. It the only memory she had left of her mother.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. First Year: Questionable Classes and Quarrelsome Quidditch Qualms</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Despite her excitement for her first class (and the fact that it was taught by a ghost!) Petra was sorely disappointed when History of Magic turned out to be thoroughly sleep-inducing. Leiani, who shared all of Petra’s classes, had sat beside her and taken to painting her nails with a foul-smelling Muggle polish during lessons to ward off boredom, while Petra scribbled in the corners of her parchment. Inversely, during Astronomy, she had discovered that Leiani had a slight obsession with Astrology (which she had emphasised it was <em>not</em> the same as Astronomy) and therefore knew a decent amount of the stars they were required to memorise already. It helped ease boredom, somewhat, when a friend was able to make it more interesting.</p><p>The best class so far was easily Charms. Upon taking the register, Professor Flitwick, both particularly short and eccentric, made careful note of which students were sat together and their appearances. He even paid attention to their wands – something Petra had never given much thought about.</p><p>“Silver lime, is it?” He had asked her excitedly.</p><p>“Yes. Phoenix feather core.”</p><p>The Professor grinned. “Interesting combination. I suspect you’ll need to keep an eye on that wand. Sometimes they have a mind of their own.”</p><p>While Petra wasn’t sure what he meant and initially struggled to focus her magic on the feather at the desk or pronounce the Levitation Charm correctly, by the middle of the second Charms class that week she had successfully cast it. It was far more intuitive than her other classes, which she appreciated. Without the need to concentrate on numbers or theory, she found it a little easier to get by in lessons. Petra kept her eyes fixed to the feather and sent it gliding over the heads of Leiani, Susan and Hannah, who each sat along the same row. A few other students had cast the charm as well, including a Gryffindor boy named Dean Thomas who sat beside Seamus and Neville. When it was time for lunch, Hannah left to join her other friends at the end of the Hufflepuff table, while Petra, Leiani and Susan each walked over to join the Gryffindor boys and gush about their lessons. Other than a few stressed seventh years, the only person who seemed to be bothered was the dark-skinned girl from the train, Hermione Granger, who sat alone and was a clear stickler for order and rules. Many of their mealtimes passed in a similar fashion.</p><p>Her first Herbology class had been somewhat similar. The dangerous and magical plants that filled the greenhouses seemed to grow more interesting as Professor Sprout spoke and made a deliberate comment about how one’s success in the subject required constant attention and tending to the plants. From what Petra had heard, many Hufflepuffs were successful in Herbology, much to the other House’s disgust. Whether they did well because of talent or the Head of House, she was undecided. Petra did not believe that she was partial to the subject despite her House.</p><p>After her first few weeks of classes, Petra had learnt two things. One: avoid the moving staircases wherever possible or leave ten minutes earlier than necessary. Two: Professor Snape was piece of work. As she flicked through the pages of her Potions textbook, fingers skirting over the writing before her, her brows furrowed together in confusion. It outlined each of the cauldron types and their uses easily enough, and when she concentrated, Petra could recall them without much difficulty. The problem was that she could only remember them in the order of the textbook. Sat beside Leiani, the girls had scrambled some scrap pieces of parchment with crude drawings of cauldrons and were attempting to label them, as well as their purpose. Neither were particularly successful.</p><p>She could already tell Potions was not going to be her strong suit. In contrast, Hermione was clearly far beyond the rest of the class and did not hesitate to make others aware of it. Hermione, as well as Draco and his friends were already finished with their bookwork. Petra tried not to wither under the Professor’s stare. <em>Head up, Petra. </em>She thought her mother would say. <em>He’s simply bitter. He can’t take House points away for feeling happy.</em></p><p>Yes, Petra supposed being happy and cheerful was the most rewarding form of revenge. She doubted Professor Snape had ever smiled in his life.</p><p>Her thoughts were interrupted as Draco walked past her desk, sneering as he went. "I knew you Hufflepuffs were dreadful at Quidditch, but yesterday's game really was embarrassing."</p><p>Petra’s amber gaze flickered over to the slick-haired boy before she looked to the side to check for other Hufflepuffs that he could be talking to. There was no one else around other than Leiani, who was clearly not invested in the Quidditch team as she had fallen asleep during the match and rested her head upon Petra’s shoulder. Confused, Petra raised a brow.</p><p>“Are you talking to me?”</p><p>“Obviously.” Draco said condescendingly.</p><p>Petra let out an amused chuckle. He was clearly trying to rile her up. “I look like the kind of person who plays Quidditch to you?"</p><p>The smile that donned Draco’s expression faltered.</p><p>"No, you don't actually. Doubt you'd even be able to fly your broom straight."</p><p>Nodding, Petra grabbed her quill and returned to labelling the cauldrons. "You’re right actually, I’m a dreadful flier.”</p><p>Silent, Draco was unsure of how to respond. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he let out a frustrated huff before turning away. The boys behind him stumbled as he brushed past before scrambling back into their usual formation and following him to their desk.</p><p>“I’m not trying to be rude.” Petra called, genuine. “You’re welcome to talk to me about the game if you’d like, but I’ll be working on these labels.”</p><p>A wall of black fabric came into view, and Petra’s gaze lifted to meet the scrutinising stare of Professor Snape. He leered at her. “Five points from Hufflepuff – for being intentionally obtuse.”</p><p>A wave of giggles passed through that half of the classroom at the intended insult. While he had implied that she was naturally smart, Petra doubted that was his intention. Perhaps Snape could take away House points simply for feeling happy – at least the terrible potions grades undoubtedly headed her way would distract from the aspects of her personality he disliked. That, and how he clearly seemed to favour the Slytherin students, including those who had attempted to get a rise out of her mere moments ago. Later, when she told her friends about what had happened, they laughed in approval. Apparently, Draco Malfoy had built quite the reputation for being insufferable.</p><p>“Malfoy’s a tosser,” Seamus spat and loosened his tie. With a huff, the Irish boy sat and on the courtyard bench next to Petra and Dean, while the others sat cross-legged on the ground. “He’s a right snob too.”</p><p>“He’s been nothing but mean to Neville since our first Transfiguration lesson.” Dean added, lips pursed.</p><p>Partway through plaiting Susan’s hair, Leiani tutted and rolled her eyes. “Talking about people like Draco Malfoy is exhausting. Eventually he’s going to get bored and move onto some other sap. If not, Susan can hex him for you.”</p><p>The witch in question laughed and settled into a smirk. While significantly quieter than her dormmates, Petra had the impression that Susan had much to say and simply chose not to speak it. It did not seem like a decision made out of shyness.</p><p>More worryingly, Neville’s forehead was creased with deep lines, a small frown on his lips. Fingers tangled together nervously, he appeared to zone out as the group continued with their discussion of hexes and jinxes. Mindful not to draw attention, Petra knocked his knee with hers.</p><p>“You ‘right, Neville?”</p><p>The boy startled a little and nodded half-heartedly. “I’m alright. Just thinking about Hogwarts. I don’t really feel like I belong here, especially in Gryffindor.”</p><p>The young witch shook her head. It was normal to be nervous, sure, but there was no doubt in her mind that Neville was a talented wizard. After all, he was accepted into Hogwarts.</p><p>“Of course, you belong at Hogwarts. Sometimes it takes more effort and time for some people to succeed than others. There’s nothing wrong with that. If you want to feel a bit better about yourself, you should see me in Potions.” She added light-heartedly. An awkward silence followed.</p><p>“You don’t get it, Petra. Dean and Seamus, the other guys in my dorm, they all just seem to fit in really well. I’ve barely managed to make my match turn silvery in Transfiguration yet, and it’s been <em>weeks</em>.”</p><p>Petra nodded. “So, you’re a little behind. That would make me feel worried as well, but I’m sure you can catch up. I have no doubt the guys, and certainly I wouldn’t mind lending a hand. And as for the Gryffindor part, the Sorting Hat has to have put you there for a reason.”</p><p>“I suppose so…”</p><p>A small part of Petra’s chest sank at his clear disbelief. There was no way she would allow any of her friends to feel so miserable within their first few weeks, especially someone as sweet as Neville. A determined smile on her face, she leant over and lowly whispered. “You could always slip some Forgetfulness Potion into Draco’s Pumpkin Juice…”</p><p>“Petra!” He chastised, genuinely shocked. “That’s… I didn’t think you would be the type of person to say something like that.”</p><p><em>Full of surprises</em>, she thought.</p><p>“Fair’s fair, Longbottom. Perhaps if Draco forgot some of his charms and potions recipes then he would stop harassing you.”</p><p>That brought a smile to Neville’s face. While he understood she was being cheeky, it did not matter in that moment whether they did spike Draco’s juice or not. The point was that they were friends, and Petra would not waver in her support.</p><p>As the cornflower blue and soft pinks of sunset faded and darkness crept over the grounds, the small entourage migrated to the Great Hall for dinner. It was at that moment that the two groups separated as bed would soon follow, the boys headed to the Gryffindor table and the girls to Hufflepuff. Cottage pie was served that night, which Petra had taken an instant liking to. It felt homely compared to the towering stone walls of the castle, especially when paired with lemonade. Within the hour, the girls had eaten, bid their friends farewell and headed towards their dormitories. The third-year boy, Cedric, had been busy with a friendly duel against a fifth year in the corridor.</p><p>“Think we’ll become that good at casting spells?” Susan asked absentmindedly.</p><p>With a flourish, Cedric disarmed his opponent and his friends cheered. It was comforting to see the friendly boy succeed, Petra thought.</p><p>“Susie Q, it’s a guarantee. I can’t name a class you’re remotely struggling in; Petra could talk a Basilisk into sharing a cup of tea, and I am a clear beacon of talent and wisdom.”</p><p>A pause lingered. The girls suddenly giggled at her theatrics, and Petra rolled her eyes.</p><p>“Susie Q?” Susan asked.</p><p>“It’s a song, don’t worry.” She leant against one of the moving staircases and waited for it to shift into the right place. “Sometimes I forget that none of you grew up in a properly Muggle household.”</p><p>Susan crossed her arms with a cheeky grin. “I get honorary Muggle-born culture points though, right, because I’m a Half-blood?”</p><p>“Sure. You don’t get any though, Fawley. Too noble of blood for us, I’m afraid.” She said mockingly.</p><p>Petra laughed. Leiani always seemed to make her laugh, and Petra adored it. “I’m surprised you know much about blood status. It’s a load of rubbish, you know.”</p><p>Leiani nodded and inspected her nails distractedly.</p><p>“Just heard some other students talking about some of the family lines, is all… Didn’t realise wizards cared so much.”</p><p>“Only some Pure-blood elitists.” Petra snorted. “Families like the Malfoys and the Notts.”</p><p>“Bloody idiots, in other words.” Susan said with a laugh as the staircase finally shifted and they walked down the corridor towards the Common Room.</p><p>If Petra had paid more attention, then perhaps she would have noticed the weight of their discussion, even as a group of twelve-year olds. All idiotic children grew into adults at some point or another, and one couldn’t laugh at their prejudices then. Though, how was a child supposed to understand the gravity of such perceived supremacies? The Dark Lord had been defeated, the Ministry was prosperous, and she went to school with Harry Potter, for Merlin’s sake. The Wizarding World was safe.</p><p>It was a thought process not unique to herself, and one that would completely destroy her life. She hadn’t the faintest idea.</p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. First Year: Halloween</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Decidedly skipping lunch after a stomach-churning Transfiguration lesson in which a Ravenclaw student accidentally turned his mouse inside out instead of into a snuff box, Petra had migrated outside and sat near the greenhouses. A patchy Scots pine shielded her eyes from the sun, the chirp of nearby birds and gentle breeze a comfort. A piece of parchment rested against her bent thighs, Potions textbook underneath to support it. Quill in hand, she scribbled about random faces without much care. It was mostly to relax her. The quiet that enveloped the outdoors was a welcome change from the boisterous Great Hall and castle. It reminded her of the empty, hollow silence she had grown up in. The Fawley Estate was large enough that, if one was determined enough, you could hide away all day without being found. Hidden in corners with parchment and a quill was how she spent much of them. That, and reading.</p><p>At that particular moment, Petra tried very hard to get the slope of a nose the way she wanted. <em>Roman</em>, she thought, fiddling with the bump in the nose. She thought back to a Muggle magazine she had picked up in a London bookstore about drawing and listed the points off in her head. <em>There’re button noses,</em> <em>Grecian, upturned, hooked, flat and bulbous, snub and droopy…</em></p><p>The snap of a stick behind the tree caused Petra to startle. She whipped around and caught sight of a familiar head of neatly trimmed brown hair. “Oh, hello Cedric.”</p><p>“Petra,” he greeted fondly, hands stashed into his robes.</p><p>“What are you up to up here?” Petra asked.</p><p>“Was just checking on my Valerian plant for an assignment.”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“Yeah, it’s going pretty well actually.” He smiled softly to himself, as if some inside joke crossed his mind. “I could ask you the same question though. You can’t have been to lunch, surely?”</p><p>Legs now rested flat against the ground, Petra shuffled to face him and get comfortable. “We had Transfiguration today. Someone messed up the spell and,” Petra paled, “it was pretty gross.”</p><p>A grimace overtook Cedric’s features. “Right. Someone always seems to disfigure…” The sight of the scribbles on her parchment caused the boy to tilt his head and get a better look. A smile formed. “Did you draw those?”</p><p>Self-conscious, Petra nodded, a forced smile on her lips. It was rare to have someone notice her drawings mostly due to her previously limited circle, let alone comment on them. The unfamiliar territory made her nervous. “Yeah, it’s just a hobby.”</p><p>“You mind?” He asked and motioned to sit. Petra gestured beside her in consent.</p><p>It was obvious that Cedric was interested in her drawings and despite her better judgement the young witch handed the parchment over. For a few moments, he gawked, flicked to the next page and absorbed the numerous faces she had drawn. Petra looked away and perched her head on an open palm.</p><p>“Is that the teacher’s table in the Great Hall?”</p><p>Engrossed in a picture of the staff, Professors Sinistra and Trelwaney talked on the left, while two of the Head of House, Snape and McGonagall glared at certain aspects of the Hall and murmured to one another. In contrast, Professor Kettleburn gleamed under his new bandage and greedily shovelled a spoonful of soup into his scarred mouth. It was a little rough, and some of the teachers were more recognisable from their clothes rather than their faces, but Petra was satisfied. It had been a long day the night she drew it.</p><p>“It is, actually. Got back to my dorm after lunch and wanted to draw. I’m much better with faces, especially when I don’t enchant them to move.” Petra wrapped her arms around her folded knees.</p><p>“You drew it from memory?”</p><p>Petra nodded.</p><p>A short silence followed, and Petra could tell Cedric was thinking about something. “This is amazing. You know, I’m not much of an artist, but Professor Burbage, the Muggle Studies teacher, is really into Muggle art. You should talk to her about it.”</p><p>Did Cedric really believe the sketches were worth following up? It was only a hobby and it didn’t seem like the type of thing to bother a Professor about. Although, Cedric was clearly a smart and caring student and would never deliberately make a fool out of her. Perhaps it was worth a conversation.</p><p>“Okay. Thanks, Cedric.”</p><p>“Call me Ced. All my friends do.”</p><p>Petra couldn’t help the beaming smile that stretched across her lips. “Sure, Ced.”</p><p>Another silence passed as the boy continued to flick through the pages in her sketchbook, some which she quickly apologised for their quality and others she scanned with a swell of pride. There were drawings of Leiani, Neville and Susan, the Hogwarts Express and some of the creatures from Petra’s Defence class, which was certainly fascinating despite the abysmal teachings of Professor Quirrell. If he weren’t so hopeless, it may even have been Petra’s favourite subject. Cedric stopped at a particular page and tilted the parchment so that Petra could see more easily. It was of a woman, long hair and light eyes shielded from the sun by a wide-brimmed hat. Petra’s heart tightened. She had forgotten about that drawing.</p><p>“Who’s this?”</p><p>“My mother,” Petra replied sadly, “It’s based off of a photograph my father took in the eighties. She died when I was little from Scrofungulus.”</p><p>Cedric looked to the drawing with furrowed brows, “That’s awful.”</p><p>Petra smiled and shrugged. She did not want to linger on such feelings and hoped that if she seemed unbothered Cedric would move on. It was much more comfortable to talk about <em>other</em> people’s problems, rather than her own. “Nothing you or I can do about it. It’s not like we have a time turner to go back and stop it. My friends don’t really know yet, though, so I’d prefer it if it didn’t come up.”</p><p>Cedric quickly nodded, “I wouldn’t dare to tell anyone.”</p><p>The boy flicked through a few more pages of the sketchbook and then returned it. Afternoon classes were going to start soon, Petra realised, and with a hasty but friendly goodbye Cedric walked to the Great Hall for last-minute lunch, and Petra to the third floor for Defence, which elicited a dreadful sigh. She had already devoted thought to professor Quirrell’s dreadful lessons that day and resolved to pour over her textbook during his lectures. At least the textbook was reliable. That, and she could always chat with Leiani the entire time. Perhaps she would have more of the Muggle polish for their fingernails, she thought, fondly admiring the lavender colour she currently wore.</p><p>***</p><p>There had been a surprise exam in Defence on Vampires, yet Petra walked out of the classroom with a strangely positive demeanour, a little rush in her veins. Each question had been simple enough, aside from a few specific ones about the <em>Society for the Tolerance of Vampires,</em> which gave the young witch a little confidence in her reliance on the textbook. In comparison, Leiani had finished her exam but fumbled the section about transformations entirely, Susan had run out of time and Neville looked ready to cry the entire time. It allowed Petra to indulge in the thought that perhaps the Sorting Hat had been right about her intelligence, though it was more likely to be that she simply read a lot and retained it well. It was certainly something worth inclusion in the letters to her father.</p><p>More days passed as Petra, Leiani and Susan spent time with Neville, Dean and Seamus during breaks and formed one of the larger friend groups of their year. During the Halloween Feast, the group had piled on to the end of the Hufflepuff table and swapped around various sweets, as no one had the intention to sleep at a reasonable hour that night and vowed to consume as many Honeydukes products as possible. It was about halfway through the feast, after Petra had pocketed three chocolate frogs, two bags of ice mice and a jar of pepper imps to share, that the doors to the Great Hall burst open and Professor Quirrell ran towards the teacher’s table. He was pale as a sheet and his turban was askew, and Petra instantly felt a jolt of fear. If their <em>Defence Against the Dark Arts</em> <em>teacher</em> was scared, something terrible must have happened.</p><p>“Troll – in the dungeons – thought you ought to know,” the Professor said weakly, and promptly dropped to the ground in a faint.</p><p>Students everywhere screamed, and Leiani grabbed Petra’s hand in fear. Both Seamus and Dean were yelling at one another, though she couldn’t understand what they were saying. All that she could process was that a violent, massive troll had been let into the school, and that there was no way she would know how to fight it if attacked. Above the noise, several firecrackers sounded, and all eyes darted back to the Headmaster in fear. Calm as ever, yet firm, his voice rumbled throughout the Hall, “Prefects, lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!”</p><p>With that, the boys quickly dashed to their table and followed one of the Weasley brothers towards the exit. Petra, Leiani and Susan stuck to each other’s sides like glue, stumbled across Hannah amongst the chaos and followed one of the sixth year Hufflepuff Prefects back to their dormitories. That night, despite being safe within their beds, each of the girls struggled to sleep. None of them had the stomach to enjoy their newly acquired sweets and instead kept mostly quiet, as if the troll would hear them and barge inside if they made any noise. It effected Leiani the most, who sat on Petra’s bed for the majority of the night, too terrified to leave. She was a far cry from the funny and confident witch Petra had come to know.</p><p>In order to distract herself, Petra read ahead in her Transfiguration textbook for a while as Leiani worked on the Charms homework, though it did not take long for each of them to grow restless. They eventually decided to lie down and abandon their studies, the silence still full of tension. Eventually, it was Leiani who broke it.</p><p>“You know, this really famous writer made an enormous book with trolls in it –<em>The Lord of the Rings</em> – they weren’t that important to the story, honestly, but they were terrifying.”</p><p>“Are they scarier than wizard trolls?” Petra asked.</p><p>“I think so,” Leiani whispered and fiddled with her hands, “they have black blood, and toeless feet. Though I’m sure the Fellowship would have fought it off.”</p><p>Another silence settled as Petra mulled it over. She had never heard the ‘Lord of Rings’ that Leiani had described but figured the easiest way to stop her friend’s worry was to talk.</p><p>“Are there any other Muggle books about dark creatures?”</p><p> “So many! You know about Dracula, obviously, thanks to our stupid surprise exam. There are heaps of books about Vampires though. And Zombies, though there are more movies about those.”</p><p>Petra’s mouth gaped open as she sat up and eyed her friend with shock. “Movies!? Are you telling me that someone <em>intentionally</em> dressed up like a Zombie for <em>entertainment</em>?”</p><p>Leiani released a small giggle.</p><p>“Yeah, they did. There’s <em>Evil Dead</em>. My father has a VHS tape of it, which I’m not allowed to watch. There’s <em>Night of the Dead</em>, or <em>Living Dead</em>, or something like that, <em>Dawn of the Dead</em>… pretty much anything with ‘dead’ in the title and a spooky poster has Zombies in it.”</p><p>“Why would you do that?” Petra asked, incredulous. “Wouldn’t that be scary?”</p><p>“That’s the whole point! It’s a movie meant to scare you. They’re called horror movies.”</p><p>After a few blinks, Petra laughed and clutched her stomach, unable to control her giggles. Normally she didn’t find Muggle customs too strange, but the idea of intentionally watching a film to scare you was so ridiculous she couldn’t help but laugh. Chest tight, she began to wheeze and wriggle around, which Leiani found so entertaining that she too started to laugh. Within a few moments, both were brushing tears from their eyes.</p><p>“Are you two alright?” A voice called, cautious. It sounded like Hannah.</p><p>“We-we’re fine!” Leiani let out between gasps. “Petra’s just- we’re having a mo-ment.”</p><p>Another fit of giggles overwhelmed them, and the curtains to Petra’s bed parted to reveal Susan’s mildly disturbed face, book in hand. “Did you two drink some Laughing Potion?”</p><p>With some sense of composure regained, Petra took a deep breath and asked, “Have you ever heard of horror films? From what Leiani’s told me, they’re hilarious!”</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Slimy, Slithering, Spiteful Slytherins</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for the delay, I got a bit caught up in some of the seventh-year chapters I'm working on (AKA, pure pain). Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was <em>not</em> the day for Petra to be patient with Draco Malfoy. Her father was three weeks late in replying to her letter, she had slept in and missed breakfast and a headache had formed between her temples.</p><p>“Careful Longbottom, don’t want to add any Salamander Blood to your Herbicide Potion or it’ll knock you back so harshly even your thick skull would feel it.”</p><p>Petra was <em>seething</em>. At the table next to her, Draco sat beside Blaise Zabini and stirred his potion, a condescending smile on his face. Paired up with Neville, who had barely started to add the Lionfish spines to their cauldron, Petra loathed that the Slytherin boy was already harassing her friend. How Draco found this behaviour entertaining or warranted was beyond her. To find enjoyment in someone else’s suffering was something that she could never understand. She added a handful of standard ingredient with a scowl.</p><p>“Leave him alone, Malfoy. Surely you can entertain yourself without bothering my friends.”</p><p>“Why in Salazar’s name would I do that when the git makes it <em>so easy</em>?”</p><p>That was the fourth time that week he had called Neville a git – that she knew of. Muscles in her fingers tense, whipped her head to face him. “Perhaps because you have better things to do such as monitoring your potion?”</p><p>The blonde laughed, “Yeah, right. You just hate the fact that I don’t follow your silly little Hufflepuff rules about friendship and kindness.”</p><p>A deep breath in, and then out. She slid her finger past the various instructions on the parchment in front of her and determined that the boy simply was not worth the hassle. Eventually, he would grow bored, move on or grow up. She suspected it would not be the latter.</p><p>“Oi! She said to leave him alone, Malfoy!” Seamus yelled. For once, he seemed to have avoided the scrutiny of the Potions master (though he had not yet lit a flame below his cauldron, which Petra suspected was Dean’s doing).</p><p>Like a murder of crows descending on something dead, Professor Snape’s black cloak came into view as her towered over Seamus. Greasy hair hung about his face in a dark curtain, and Petra was suddenly struck with the image of the young Muggle teenagers she had seen about London with black eye makeup and ripped clothes. She stifled a giggle and looked to her desk quickly. <em>That</em> was certainly something she would have to tell Leiani later or jot down in her sketchbook.</p><p>“You will refrain from yelling in my class and for speaking out of turn Mr Finnigan,” the Professor said, eyes peered down his hooked nose, “Ten points from Gryffindor. I would also recommend heating your potions, as those which are cold turn out… <em>unfavourable</em>. Another five points will be deducted for your failure to listen to basic instructions. Incompetency will not be tolerated.”</p><p>With a huff, Seamus shook his head and lit the fire beneath his cauldron.</p><p>“That lot haven’t got half a brain between them,” Draco whispered to Blaise, intentionally loud enough for Petra and Neville to hear.</p><p>She pretended she couldn’t and instead turned around to grab the jar of lionfish spines as they were next on the list. There weren’t enough. Beside the half-empty jar, some horned slugs floated in of blue liquid and Petra had an idea. Subtly, she slipped off the lid to the horned slugs and collected a few, the lionfish spines jar in her other hand. With a quick excuse, she left Neville at their table. Face neutral, she walked over to Draco’s smiling face and Blaise’s perpetually bored expression as he read. Fair was fair.</p><p>“Lionfish spines for the half-brain?” Petra asked and held out the jar.</p><p>With a cocky smirk, Draco took the jar, “you just keep crawling back, don’t you Fawley? You’re lucky I’m so generous.”</p><p>As he turned around, Petra checked that Blaise’s eyes were still trained to the textbook. They were, and her hand shot out like a broom as she dropped the horned slugs into their potion, wiped her palms and settled. An enormous smile buried under a scowl, she waited as Draco dramatically picked each individual spine from their jar before he dropped it into her own. Once satisfied with himself, the young wizard returned the jar with a condescending smile.</p><p>“If you feel like passing Potions sometime, let me know. Though it might take some convincing for me to help the likes of <em>you</em>.”</p><p>Petra returned an equally venomous smile. “The likes of someone who is better than you at Charms <em>and</em> Defence? Sure, thanks for the advice.”</p><p>The boy’s smile faltered, and Petra felt a small wave of relief. The grades themselves did not matter to her much, but the knowledge that the slimy, elitist and frankly rude Slytherin would be positively <em>disturbed</em> by her comment left her satisfied. With that, she turned and left the Slytherin boys, sat beside Neville and hid her smile behind the cauldron. Perhaps now Draco would leave her friends alone.</p><p>“What was that all about?” Neville asked.</p><p>“We needed lionfish spines.” Petra replied innocently. She did not dare to let on what had happened.</p><p>Ten minutes passed like that as the class continued to mix their potions and follow the instructions, the Professor provided various scathing critiques as he studied their movements. In particular, he watched Harry Potter and Ron Weasley (Neville’s <em>other</em> dormmates, which he failed to mention earlier) as if they would burn the dungeons down if unsupervised. Without warning, a loud bubbling sounded and the cauldron in front of Draco and Blaise exploded. A jet of purple liquid and foam burst out and coated the boys and well as their desk, the floor, and the wall. The class erupted into a chorus of laughter. With a cry, Draco hurriedly wiped it from his face and skin. Blaise followed suit and yelled in confusion, though the concoction would not hurt them – of that Petra was certain.</p><p>“What on earth have you two managed to brew here?” Snape demanded; features screwed in disgust. “Quit your fussing. Nothing harmful can come from Herbicide Potion, though both of you will lose ten House Points <em>each</em> for your negligence. I expected better of Slytherins, especially you, Malfoy.”</p><p>Guilt plagued Petra’s stomach as she chastised herself. Yes, Draco deserved to be reprimanded for his behaviour, but the boy was humiliated. His jaunts were never half as successful as what she’d just done, and she regretted it instantly despite the smiles that donned the majority of the classroom. It was very unkind of her, and she knew in that moment her mother would have been disappointed in her. It was one thing to support your friends and try and fend off bullies – it was another to become one. In that moment, as the Slytherins wiped purple muck from their clothes and were dismissed for the afternoon, Petra vowed never to stoop to that level again.</p><p>That didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy, at least a little bit, the way Neville’s face had lit up as the boys were dismissed. From across the room, Dean and Seamus whispered excitedly to one another while Susan and Leiani continued their potion-making. A pair of circular glasses stood out between their eager faces, now freed from the gaze of their Professor, and sent her a knowing smile. Petra shook her head with a smile of her own, looked to her book and carried on. Harry Potter got up to enough mischief on his own; he wasn’t going to turn her in.</p><p>Shortly after, the lesson was over. Petra and Neville had produced a passable brew, and it was not long before Astronomy was set to start. With a quick wave to her friends, Petra grabbed her shoulder bag and collected the envelope tucked within her robes. “I need to drop this off at the Owlery before Astronomy.”</p><p>Leiani’s face dropped a little, and it seemed as though she was ready to interrupt.</p><p>“That’s alright,” Dean replied, “Seamus, Neville and I have got Defence after this anyway. Meet you girls later?”</p><p>Petra hummed in approval. An arm snaked around her elbow as Leiani matched her stride. Their dormmates were already gone.</p><p>It was a long walk to the Owlery from the dungeons, and if their next class weren’t so close Petra simply would have waited another day. The envelope only contained a letter, the details for the trip back to London in time for Christmas and a few drawings for her father (which crudely depicted her friends so that he would have a vague understanding of their appearances).</p><p>“Has he replied to your last letter yet?” Leiani asked. “I don’t recall you getting anything in the post.”</p><p>“No, not yet. I’m sure he’s just busy and hasn’t had the chance to write a proper response. It doesn’t mean I can’t send him more letters.”</p><p><em>Yes,</em> Petra reassured herself, <em>father can’t write about work, and there isn’t much else to do with no one home. He’ll reply when something interesting happens or when he finds the time. </em></p><p>“That’s sweet of you,” Leiani said with a smile, “I’m not sure my parents understand the whole ‘owl post’ thing. They keep asking for an address.”</p><p>The girls giggled, though it was quickly stifled as they braced themselves for the long and windy stairs towards the Owlery. It was an exhausting trek; some of the cobblestones where smoothed over or indented from the foot traffic caused by students, while other areas had small holes where the rocks had simply fallen off. By the time they made it to the top, both of the girls huffed to catch their breath. There was a Professor inside, straight blonde hair messily piled onto her head and a billowing purple skirt. Petra did not recognise her.</p><p>“Good afternoon, girls,” the blonde greeted.</p><p>“Good afternoon Professor…” Leiani trailed off, unsure of her name. Petra ventured towards the owls to send her letter.</p><p>“Burbage,” the Professor supplied, “sometimes I forget that you younger years hardly interact with Muggle Studies classes.”</p><p>So, this was the teacher that Cedric had told Petra to meet. It made some sense that she was the Muggle Studies Professor, as the vest she wore was not in line with wizard fashion, nor were the numerous pins and odd brooches she embellished it with.</p><p>“I’m Petra Fawley, and this is Leiani Crow. We’re both first years. Cedric Diggory told me to speak with you, actually-”</p><p>“Cedric?” The Professor repeated fondly. “He’s a remarkable student of mine, very talented. What on Earth has he sent you to me for?”</p><p><em>What on Earth?</em> Petra wasn’t quite sure what the Professor meant but judging by Leiani’s expression it was a perfectly normal thing for one to say. Perhaps it was another thing she had not learned while she had been cooped up at the Estate for the majority of her childhood. She removed the sketchbook from her shoulder bag with an earnest smile. “He thought you might like to take a look at these. I drew them myself.”</p><p>With a nod, the Professor flicked through the drawings and studied each intently. The silence seemed to stretch on forever as she admired the drawings, and Petra sent her friend a nervous look.</p><p>“These are quite good, especially given your age.”</p><p>“Thank you.”</p><p>Professor Burbage handed the sketchbook back to her. “I can see why Cedric sent you to me. I’m rather fond of Muggle Arts, which you can take from the beginning of your sixth year here if you’d like. You’ve clearly got some natural talent. You probably could try some other materials, though, a quill is not the most artistic of things…”</p><p>Petra thanked her again. A great chime sounded from the clocktower, and the Professor’s casual posture straightened. They were all going to be late if they didn’t hurry. “I must be off, however, I’ve a class to teach.” She began to walk down the stairs. “You really should consider taking Muggle studies in third year, it’s quite fascinating!”</p><p>“For sure!”</p><p>With that, the Professor was gone. Envelope still in hand, Petra scrambled over towards an owl and tied her letter to its leg with strict instructions for it to fly to the Fawley Estate.</p><p>“Come on,” Leiani said and grabbed her hand, “If we’re much later then we won’t get a seat at the back of the classroom.”</p><p>The pair stampeded down the stairs with laboured breath. Neither paused for even a moment to admire the wreaths and decorations being levitated into the ceiling and corridor walls in fear of the wrath (in the form of homework) Professor Sinistra may unleash for their tardiness. They managed to get there in only three minutes and sat at their desk merely seconds before the Professor entered, mutually relieved. It was then that Petra looked around the classroom to look for any of her friends and noted the head of platinum blonde sat a few rows away. With a huff, she returned her gaze to the lesson and cursed the purple mixture for failing to stain his ridiculous hair.</p>
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